Orion put aside his hunting gear
as well as mad pursuits of Pleiades
to grace celestial skies of mythic sphere
with swirling sweeps of paintings in a frieze
where grand displays of abstract art appear
emblazoned with prismatic expertise.
Was it a rush of great galactic awe
that caused such change in crass Orion's mien,
a fleeting lapsus when again he saw,
as viewed on Hesiod's poetic screen,
his blindness healed by Helios, to draw
delight from stellar marvels yet unseen?
Once deemed to be creation's cosmic fire
in Mayan culture of an olden age,
the nebula in Hunter's starred attire
is just beneath his belt as gazers gauge
of color palette dreamers to inspire
with fluid fancies dancing on its stage.
Called Messier Four Two, this region teems
with star formation, plus it's near to Earth,
or fifteen hundred light-years far, so gleams
are easily perceived from it, thus worth
a lot to the astronomers with schemes
of ascertaining more on stellar birth.
‘Tis fuzzily discerned in darkened sky
as middle ‘star' in bold Orion's sword,
first glimpsed in sixteen hundreds there to lie
through aid of early scope, then to record
this cloudscape, visible with naked eye,
in later observations much explored.
But while the Hunter in us hunts on high
midst starry realms of wondrous cosmic art
let's hope whatever findings we descry
will lead us to a purer humbler heart
along with seeking spirit ever nigh
for vaster view of truth ere we depart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An informational, beautifully described, and lovely cadenced poem deserving of multiple reads. The notes are appreciated as always. Harley, you will make stargazers of us all!